


Because We Needed You Back

by Violette_Witch



Series: Supernatural Season Overviews [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, Lots of Angst, M/M, Movie Night, Some Fluff, none of your faves are cishet, not so canon compliant anymore, queering supernatural, talking about Jack but Jack's not really in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24610204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violette_Witch/pseuds/Violette_Witch
Summary: Dean thought he'd lost everything, but when a miracle gives him back the angel he loves, his hope is restored. But, with everything they have to deal with, will he find the courage -- and the time -- to admit his feelings?An Overview of Season 13, with chapters taking place between episodes.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Supernatural Season Overviews [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779163
Comments: 9
Kudos: 36
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> 13x03:  
> The Empty: Besides, you don’t want to go back.  
> Castiel: Yes, I do. Sam and Dean need me.  
> The Empty: Oh, save it. I have tiptoed through all your little tulips. Your memories, your little feelings, yes. I know what you hate. I know who you love… what you fear. There is nothing for you back there … Kiddo, save yourself.  
> Castiel: I’m already saved … You can prance and you can preen, and you can scream and yell and remind me of my failings but somehow, I’m awake. And I will stay awake and I will keep you awake until we both go insane.
> 
> Post 13x06:  
> SAM: I don't even know what to say.  
> DEAN: I do. Welcome home, pal.

The cold night air rushed across Dean’s face from the open window of the Impala. Everything that had happened that day – even his encounter with Death – felt like it was being swept away by each gust of wind. The despair that had been weighing on him for weeks was gone, leaving him with one thing – hope.

“And we’re sure this is Cas?” Sam asked, worry creasing his brow. “I mean, I don’t even know how that’s possible –”

“It’s him,” Dean assured him, _it has to be._

Sam seemed to still have doubts. Dean admitted, only to himself, that there was a possibility that someone was tricking them, luring them into some kind of trap by pretending to be Castiel. It was too good to be true, and he knew better than to trust things like this. But he had to. Because without Cas … well …

But he _knew_ that wasn’t the case. He could feel it, like the balance of the world had somehow been made right. Cas was alive.

…

Castiel waited by the telephone booth. Sam and Dean hadn’t been close when he called, so he knew he’d be standing there for a while. It didn’t bother him. It wouldn’t be the first time.

He stared up at the night sky. In some ways, it was like his time in The Empty had never happened. He had no idea how long he had been there, and it all felt like a strange dream … the kind that faded as the sun rose and you found yourself back in reality.

Dreaming … such an odd sensation. He remembered it from when he’d been human. However, he knew that what had happened to him was no dream. He had died, stabbed by Lucifer. That had really happened. But somehow, against all odds, he was back on earth. 

The cosmic entity had tried to discourage him, had tried to remind him of his failures but … it hadn’t worked. Maybe it had to do with the hope the Nephilim had given him, or maybe dying had somehow cleared his head but, he didn’t feel as weighed down by his failures as he previously had. It was true, he had disappointed Dean – and Sam, and himself – many times. But he kept on living. He knew he couldn’t erase the bad things he’d done – where he had come from – but the future, where he was going … certainly that was more important than anything that lay behind him.

As he stood and waited, looking up at the moon, another thing the Empty had said came echoing back through his memory:

_I know who you love._

He didn’t know why this line should have stuck with him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard similar sentiments from countless others – people were always taunting him about his connection to the Winchesters – specifically to Dean. It wasn’t like it was some grand secret. But … the way it had been said … the knowing glint in The Empty’s eyes …

Castiel had been carefully harboring his feelings for Dean Winchester for years. Always holding back, never wanting to cross a line. Dean was the kind of person who was stubborn in his heterosexuality, never allowing himself to imagine anything different, and although the human concept of gender didn’t entirely apply to angels, Castiel looked like a man. To Dean, he was a man. And until Dean could accept his capacity to love men, what Castiel wanted didn’t matter.

But he did love him. He loved how human he was, how fiercely he fought to protect the things that mattered to him. And he loved how, despite everything they’d gone through, he still found ways to laugh. He was brave, and determined, and … God, Castiel couldn’t wait to see him again.

Finally, the familiar black impala rolled into view, and after a small moment of disbelief, Dean pulled Castiel into a hug. “Welcome home, pal,” he said gruffly. And as Cas wrapped his own arms around Dean, he knew that he _was_ home.


	2. What you are for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During 13x06

For the first time in months, the bunker felt like home again. Dean was in his room, gathering things for the hunt Jack had found them, and he couldn’t keep a smile from his face. Castiel was back. He was alive. It hadn’t been a trick or a dream. He was real and here, and alive.

Dean turned around, but as he headed out of his room, he ran into Castiel. They stopped in the doorway, looking at each other, and Cas had a … troubled look on his face. “You ok, buddy?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I’m … So, Jack’s doing well, huh?” Castiel said evasively.

“Uh yeah, I guess,” Dean responded, gesturing for Cas to follow him into the room and taking a seat. He got the feeling Cas wanted to have some sort of … discussion, though he had no clue what it was about, “I wasn’t sure but, I’m starting to think Sam was right. Kid’s got potential.”

“That’s an understatement.” Castiel said gruffly, “the … cosmic entity I annoyed, he said nothing has ever woken him up before. If Jack can do that … We have no idea what his potential is.” He stood with his hands in his pockets, brow furrowed, and Dean couldn’t help but feel like he was concerned.

“Cas, you sure you’re ok?” Dean asked.

Castiel didn’t answer for a moment, he just looked around Dean’s room, eventually taking a seat in an empty chair, facing Dean. Finally, he said, “You didn’t … ask Jack to wake me up? He did that on his own? On accident?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, noting a hint of … hurt in Castiel’s voice. He didn’t know what else to say.

Castiel’s eyes were narrowed, almost accusatory, “I guess I just expected … I mean, we fight for each other, right? You always …” he cut off, confusion flickering across his face, “but you burned my body? You … what, you didn’t want me to come back?”

“No! God, no, Cas I –” Dean exclaimed, reaching forward as if to grab Cas’s hand, “of course I wanted you back!” He hated the pleading tone that crept into his voice, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it. “I didn’t know what to do. I knew – I knew that Chuck had brought you back before, so I prayed. I prayed for the first time in I don’t know how long but – he’s gone. And you were gone. And, I – I –” he swallowed hard, fighting the trembling in his voice.

Castiel didn’t respond for a moment, while Dean struggled to find the right thing to say. He had just been so … lost. Then, to his surprise, Cas took his outstretched hand in both his own, and met his eyes with a slight smile. “Well, I guess I can’t exactly complain,” he said, “I’m back now, by … some miracle even I don’t understand.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, smiling back briefly. That small moment, the touch of his hands, had pulled him back to the present, negative emotions about a past that didn’t matter anymore flew away. He was here, now, with Cas.

In his room. Staring into Cas’s blue eyes. Their hands wrapped together.

Dean sat up straighter, pulling his hand back, making an effort to be nonchalant. “Yeah, it’s – it’s crazy. We never get a win like this.”

Cas didn’t seem to be terribly phased that Dean had pulled away. “I’m still amazed that Jack even … remembered me at all,” he said.

“I don’t know I guess the kid must have gotten pretty attached to you when he … got into your head or whatever.” Dean said gruffly. He still hated thinking about that day, when Castiel’s eyes had glowed yellow and he’d left them unconscious in front of the gates of heaven.

“Dean, Jack didn’t ‘get into my head’” Cas said evenly, “everything I did … that was my choice.”

Dean looked at him disbelievingly, “But you were acting all … I don’t know, different.”

“Dean,” Cas sighed, rolling his eyes, “I acted different because Jack gave me something I haven’t had in a long time. He gave me hope, something to believe in.”

Dean looked at him for a long moment, before admitting, “Well, that’s what _you_ are for me.”

“What?” Cas asked.

“Listen, Cas … I don’t know, Sam pointed out that I don’t always say what I mean to say with you. And for that I’m sorry,” Dean ran a hand over his close-cropped hair, “You know me … I’m not always good with this kind of thing, but I need to – you were gone,” he closed his eyes and sighed sharply, “And it was like … nothing mattered anymore. I couldn’t try to bring you back because I didn’t … believe in anything anymore. I couldn’t care, I couldn’t – do anything.” He clenched his jaw, the feelings of despair and loss seeping back in.

“Look Cas, I know I don’t always agree with you, I don’t always trust your gut but … it’s not because I think you’re stupid or because I don’t trust you.” He stood up, unable to sit still with his heart going the rate it was, “It’s because I can’t … I can’t live in a world without you. And it’s different than with Sam. When Sammy’s in trouble I will go to the ends of the earth to get him back, but with you gone ….” He swallowed, pausing in his pacing to look at Cas, who was watching him intently, “I saw you get killed by an angel blade, I saw your grace explode from your body, and it was like … the world stopped. Everything stopped. I didn’t know what to do …”

And suddenly words failed him. His throat felt caught by something, and he fought back tears that he felt creeping into the corners of his eyes. He’d lost Cas before, and he felt like all the grief he’d been pushing down for years was beginning to bubble up. Even as he stood right in front of him, the feeling of helplessness, of failure, started to consume him.

The next thing he knew, Castiel had his arms around him. Dean clung back. He held him close and he knew it was true. He didn’t know how to say it or what to do about it, but … he loved this man. More deeply and more passionately than he had ever loved anyone before. He wouldn’t lose him again. He couldn’t.


	3. We'll find him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post 13x06:
> 
> JACK: I have to go.  
> CASTIEL: No, Jack.  
> JACK: I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.  
> CASTIEL: Jack!

Castiel stared at empty space where Jack had been standing, refusing to believe what had just happened. How could Jack just be … gone?

Sam, the first of them to get to his feet, ran to the place Jack had been standing, looking in vain for any trace of him. But of course, there was none. Jack had flown away, and they had no way of telling where.

Cas made his way to Dean, helping him up from where Jack had thrown him, still shaken. Dean pulled away a little too quickly, straightening his clothes. He wouldn’t look Castiel in the eye.

“Ok,” Sam said, after a moment, “ok, how do we find him? Maybe we can track his phone or …”

“He doesn’t have it on him,” Dean pointed out, gesturing to the table in the library, where Jack’s cellphone was, “but, I mean let’s face it, he’s no good at laying low. We’ll just have to keep an ear to the ground for any Nephilim-like phenomenon.”

“Right,” Sam said, reaching for his own phone, “I’ll call – I’ll call Jody and Donna and … everyone. Let them know to call us if they hear of anything.”

Cas was still just staring, feeling almost … empty. He’d lost Jack Kline. He’d promised Kelly … and he’d failed. He’d only just gotten back, and already he hadn’t been able to protect him.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said, moving as if to touch Cas’s shoulder, then changing his mind, “you ok?”

Castiel heaved a sigh, “we just lost the most powerful being in all of existence,” he looked at Dean, “do you think I’m ok?”

Dean took that comment with a small nod of his head, “You’re right, yeah. Stupid question.”

Cas looked at Dean and found himself with a question he was afraid to ask. On the one hand, Dean was the most important person in his life. He admired him, trusted him, loved him, even. Working the case together, spending time where they didn’t have to worry about the fate of world, even pretending to be cowboys, had stoked those feelings within him. Cas loved just existing beside this man, it made him feel … real. But on the other hand, he knew from personal experience that when Dean wanted to hurt someone – well, he didn’t pull his punches. Even sometimes when he _didn’t_ want to hurt them. And when Jack had called himself a monster, he had looked straight at Dean, seeming to seek confirmation.

“What did Jack mean,” he began to ask, knowing he might regret it, “that he was a monster? Why would he think that?”

Sam, who was waiting for his call to pick up, gave Cas a warning glance, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. But then he shot a glare at Dean, which told Cas everything he needed to know. Jack had not received the … _warmest_ welcome into this world.

Dean, to his credit, didn’t try to fumble an escape for himself. He set his jaw, “yeah, I wasn’t the kid’s biggest fan when we first met,” he admitted, “he’s the son of Satan. I mean … this time last year we ALL thought he was going to bring about the next Apocalypse.”

“Dean,” Cas started, exasperated, but Sam cut him off.

“You, ‘weren’t his biggest fan?’” Sam repeated incredulously, lowering his phone. “Dean, come on—"

“I know!” Dean said, “I know, I was harsh and unfair—”

“Dean, you said you’d kill him!” Sam yelled, “He was barely alive for _a week_ and you say something like that to him? What did you think was gonna happen? Nothing I said – nothing Cas did – was gonna matter after that, because you already convinced him that he wasn’t worth saving!”

“You said _what?”_ Cas said, incredulous.

“I KNOW!” Dean shouted, then he looked down and a heavy silence fell over them all, Dean struggling to control his breathing. “I know,” he repeated softly after a few moments, “Cas was gone and – I know now that wasn’t Jack’s fault, and I know it doesn’t excuse anything –” he took a long breath, then finally looked up and met Cas’s eyes. “I know that I was wrong. Jack’s not a monster, and … I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make it right with him. But I’m sure as hell going to try.”

“Dean…” Cas began, but he wasn’t sure what he was going to say. Dean looked … defeated. Tired, in a way he only got after they’d lost something incredibly important. Cas was angry with Dean for hurting Jack, for blaming him for Cas’s death, but he also knew that Dean felt grief deeply, and when he hurt he hid behind anger.

“We’ll find him,” he found himself saying, “We’ll find him and, together, we’ll fix this.”


	4. Trusting the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13x07
> 
> Castiel: Dean I swore I would protect this kid, let me do this.
> 
> …
> 
> Sam: Don’t worry, you did tell him not to do anything stupid
> 
> Dean: Yeah, when’s the last time that worked?

Dean called Cas for what felt like the hundredth time, he was having trouble staying focused on the road, trying to keep his mind from jumping to the worst conclusions. He knew he shouldn’t have let him go alone. The other angels hated Cas, what if they’d had some kind of trap waiting for him? And what was with the demon ambush at the bar?

 _If anything happened to him …_ Dean didn’t know what he’d do. They’d just gotten him back. There hadn’t been time for … for anything.

Then, to his surprise, the call picked up. “Hello Dean,” Cas’s voice said from the other end.

“Cas? Hey.” Dean said, glancing at Sam in the passenger seat. “Are you okay? We– we tried to track you down, but you were gone.” He couldn’t keep the worry out of his voice. “We ran into a bunch of demons. What's happening?

“I'm sorry. I'm fine.” Cas’s voice said. _Fine?_ He was fine? Then what had that call been about earlier that day? The one where he broke off midsentence and said he wanted to see Dean? “I tried to call and warn you, but I couldn't get a signal,” he explained, but Dean still felt a bit thrown.

“Okay, well, what's going on?” Dean asked.

“I'm following a very interesting lead,” came the answer. “I'll fill you in when I know more. See you soon, Dean.”

And with that the call ended. Dean looked down at his phone, then over at Sam in confusion.

“What did he say?” Sam asked.

Dean scoffed, “That he’s ‘following an interesting lead’ and he’ll fill us in later.”

Sam nodded, “Well … ok then. So, he’s ok?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean said, staring out at the road. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. “It’s just – I don’t know, it felt really vague. What exactly is he doing?”

Sam shrugged, his face a mixture of concern and exhaustion, “I don’t know, maybe he’s in the middle of something right now. I’m sure if there was something to be concerned about, he’d tell us.”

Dean didn’t share Sam’s confidence. This wouldn’t be the first time Cas got himself mixed up with something and kept important details a secret from them. It wouldn’t even be the third or fourth. “I thought he was meeting the angels,” Dean said, frustrated, “Wasn’t he going to that park? How’d he end up in that bar? What were the demons doing there? Like, ok, maybe he’s busy, but he can’t just call us like that, disappear, and then not give us an explanation.”

“Dean, come on,” Sam said tiredly, “Cas can handle himself. And … as long as he’s answering his phone we know he’s ok, right?”

Dean grumbled but didn’t argue. Something had felt off about that phone call, but he wanted to prove to Cas that he trusted him. If he said he was fine, if he didn’t want Sam and Dean involved in this “lead” yet, whatever it was … then fine. He would trust him. But he didn’t like Cas being so far away so soon.

…

Cas sat in his cell in Asmodeus’s prison, trying to ignore Lucifer in the cell next to him. He was babbling about something, trying to annoy the guards, but all he was succeeding in was annoying Cas. Lucifer would be lucky if he didn’t stab him once they got out of there.

If they got out of there.

There was a part of Cas that said, “Sam and Dean will come for you.” Like he’d come for them, searched for them endlessly, when they were taken prisoner the year before. But they hadn’t needed to be rescued. They hadn’t waited for anyone to come in and break them out, they had made their own plan and escaped, and Cas had ended up being little more than a ride home. Granted, he had saved them from the horrible consequences of the stupid deal they’d made to escape, but that was beside the point. Sam and Dean had found their own way out of prison.

So, the other, louder part of Cas said he needed to do the same. Asmodeus was a master of disguise so it was likely that Sam and Dean wouldn’t even notice he was missing. He wanted to believe that Dean could see through the façade, but he couldn’t bet on it. And if he was honest, he wasn’t sure if he wanted Dean’s help. It wasn’t Dean’s job to rescue everyone.

So, Cas would rescue himself. Even if that meant trusting the devil.


	5. We Get People Killed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13x11
> 
> Sam: When has knowing us ever worked out for anyone?
> 
> Dean: I mean, we save people, Sam.
> 
> Sam: Yeah, we also get people killed, Dean. Kaia, for instance. She helped us and she died for it.
> 
> Dean: Hey, look, I know you’re in some sort of a—
> 
> Sam: No, don’t… You keep saying I’m in a dark place, but I’m not, Dean. Everything I’m saying is the truth. It’s our lives. And I tried to pretend it didn’t have to be. I tried to pretend we could have Mom back and Cas and – and help Jack. But we can’t. This ends one way for us, Dean. It ends bloody. It ends bad.

The day after Sam and Dean got back from helping Donna, Sam didn’t feel like getting up. He’d spent the night staring at the ceiling, slipping in and out of restless dreams. Dreams of people they’d known. People they’d saved. People they hadn’t.

Dreams where he was too late.

Jessica. Jo and Ellen. Bobby. Kevin. Charlie. Eileen. Now Kaia. Along with faces he couldn’t fit to names, but that he remembered. Lying dead. Just because they’d known the Winchesters.

Eventually, he sat up and pulled his box out, setting it on his bed. Laying on top of his collection of memories was the letter Eileen had sent them, the one they had gotten too late. This box was supposed to hold happy memories. It was supposed to remind him of all the reasons staying alive was worth it; that his life had been worth it. But he hadn’t wanted to toss this letter, and it had seemed the most reasonable place to put it.

He looked it over, not really reading it but … remembering. The way Eileen spoke more with her face than with her words. Her fearlessness. The way she made him laugh.

“Dude!” Dean’s voice came from the other side of the door, and Sam jumped. He glanced at the clock: _10:30_ am _._ Before he could yell something back to Dean, his brother pushed the door open and came in, a plate of pancakes in one hand.

“Dean,” Sam said in protest, but Dean ignored him and pointedly set the pancakes on Sam’s beside table.

“You gotta eat something,” Dean said tersely, then he noticed the box open on the bed, the letter in his hand. “What are you doing?” he asked, sitting opposite Sam on the bed and grabbing for the box. Sam moved to stop him, but without much effort. Dean looked at the contents – pictures of them, the prop they’d gotten at the high school theater production, other tid-bits and trinkets Sam had been collecting. Sam shifted uncomfortably; it wasn’t like Dean didn’t know about this box, just that he’d never let him pick through it before. He felt like a stupid teenage girl getting her diary read.

Dean tapped the brochure Sam had taken from the Oak Park Retirement Home, “What’s this for?” he asked, “you looking for a place to settle down?” He chuckled weakly but Sam didn’t smile. He just packed up the box and set it back on his desk.

It took Dean a moment, but realization lit up his eyes, “Oh, that’s where we met –”

“Yeah,” Sam said, “I know, it’s stupid, but – it was something I wanted to remember.”

“Sammy,” Dean said worriedly, and Sam was already shaking his head. He loved Dean but sometimes it was infuriating that he still treated him like his baby brother. “What happened to her, you know that wasn’t on us. The Men of Letters, they were going after every American hunter –”

“She wasn’t an American Hunter!” Sam interrupted, “She was Irish, and she was supposed to be in _Ireland_ , laying low – except they sent people after her there too _just because_ she got mixed up with us,” he was tired of always looking for the explanation, the things they told themselves to feel better, to move on, “and then she came to us for help, but we couldn’t do anything. So, y’know, I kinda feel like it was on us.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Sam, I’m sorry,” Dean began eventually, standing, “I really am. Eileen was – she was awesome. So was Charlie, so was Kevin, none of them deserved what they got … And I know, we’ve lost a lot of people but … we can’t stop fighting. I know, I was ready to stop not too long ago. I was … closer than you know,” he admitted shakily, “but then we got Cas back and I realized –”

“That’s another thing,” Sam interrupted. Some part of him knew that he shouldn’t have cut Dean off, that this was one time when Dean was choosing to be vulnerable, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care what he’d said to Dean before, or what Dean had realized. He was tired. “You, me, Cas – we always seem to find a way back. Whether it’s demon deals, angel plans, God or just plain luck – we’re all still standing. But then we lose someone else and … nothing. Y’know, I guess we just don’t care enough, or don’t think they’re worth it.”

“Sam, you don’t know what you’re saying,” Dean said tiredly, “that’s –”

“What I’m saying,” Sam said evenly, “is that we get people killed. I’m saying that Jack was so intent on proving to us that he was good, and now he’s trapped in a hell world with no way to get back, and the one chance we had to know what was going on there – Kaia – died because she got caught up in a plan to save the two of us.”

“So _what_?” Dean snapped, “So… you’re just gonna sit in your room, look at old pictures and starve yourself? What’s your plan?”

“No, Dean I –”

“What is it?”

“I’m tired,” Sam retorted, “can’t I just have like … a day?”

Dean looked at him levelly, then nodded, “Fine. A day. I’ll leave you alone. But you should get rid of some of that stuff. It’s not good for us to dwell on the past.”

Sam was taken aback, “it’s all I’ve got to remember her,” he protested.

“it was a crush, Sammy,” Dean said roughly, “You had a crush.”

“I had _hope_!” Sam corrected him, “for the first time in a long time I imagined that I could have … _something_ with somebody.” He shook his head, exasperated, “do you know how infuriating it’s been, to watch you constantly push away and belittle the one person in the world who loves you above everything? When I am just _wishing_ that I had someone who looked at me the way he looks at you?” Dean was silent, but he set his jaw defensively and Sam knew he had struck a chord.

“Why would you bring him up?” Dean asked softly, and Sam scoffed. He couldn’t believe Dean would still deny it.

“Oh, Come on –”

“No,” Dean said, “I mean, how dare you – compare the two. Sure, you thought Eileen was cute, she was impressive, you liked having her around. It could’ve turned into something. And I am genuinely sorry that it didn’t, but me and Cas –” he seemed like he wanted to say more, but instead he swallowed and looked away. “Whatever,” he muttered after a second, “have fun with your pity party, let me know when you’re ready to live in the real world again.”

Sam didn’t respond as Dean slammed the door behind him. Conversations he’d had with Charlie, his mom, Cas … everything they’d said about letting Dean open up first, not pushing him to admit anything – he knew that he’d done the opposite. He shouldn’t have provoked Dean like that. It was stupid and immature, but he was just so … tired. Tired of loosing everyone. Tired of fighting. He knew he’d be ok in a few days, but …

Yeah.

He’d be ok.


	6. He Should Have Known

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13x13
> 
> Dean: “Cas, I’m sorry. All that time you were with Asmodeus, I – we should’ve known it wasn’t you.”
> 
> Cas: “Well he’s a shapeshifter, besides I was the one who got myself captured.”
> 
> Dean: “Well if Sam and I knew we would’ve – “
> 
> Cas: “Yeah, I know, you would’ve tried another long shot. I’m fine Dean.”

Sam had just finished up cooking some dinner for himself when Dean wandered into the kitchen. He seemed distracted, glancing in the fridge without grabbing anything, perusing the cupboards, slamming them shut with more force than necessary.

“You ok?” Sam asked, sitting down at the table with a plate of food.

“Just hungry,” Dean grumbled.

“Well …” Sam gestured to the food he’d just made, “I made enough for leftovers, you’re welcome to it.”

Dean glanced at the food suspiciously, but when he saw that it was just chicken and potatoes, not some experimental veggie dish, he grabbed a plate for himself and sat across from Sam.

“So…” Sam said, “what’s on your mind?”

Dean shook his head, mouth full, and Sam thought for a moment that was all he was gonna get, but eventually Dean spoke, “I just …” he swallowed, “I just can’t believe we didn’t know that Cas was – that it wasn’t Cas we were talking to. How did we not pick up on that?” 

Sam sighed, “I know, Asmodeus was … he checked in with us all the time, we never even suspected,” he laughed wryly, “maybe we should’ve. I mean, when’s the last time Cas kept us in the loop _that_ regularly?”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Tell me about it,” and shoveled another bite into his mouth. After just another moment of silence, he spoke again, “But seriously! I mean, from the get-go I thought – I don’t know, that it didn’t make sense, that it didn’t … _feel_ right, but I ignored it.”

“Dean,” Sam said, “I know. And believe me, I’m kicking myself over this too,” he paused, not sure how to say what came next. He couldn’t tell Dean not to feel guilty, not with all the guilt he’d been holding himself with everything they went through. But Cas had made it out. Maybe he was a little worse for wear, but he’d made it home. That was more than they could say for a lot of people.

“Is Cas ok?” he asked Dean.

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean responded, “He says he’s fine.”

“Then he’s fine,” Sam said evenly, “and this time we know for sure, because he’s here with us.” Dean still seemed dissatisfied, and Sam sighed, “listen, Dean, Cas took care of himself. He’s fine. You have to realize that it’s not your job to take care of all of us, all of the time. I know that you want to, but you can’t. You’re just one guy.”

Dean grumbled, but didn’t respond, attacking his plate of food in silence.

…

Sam left Dean in the kitchen, staring at an empty plate. He was frustrated by how easily Sam was brushing this all aside. He got that they had bigger things to worry about, he really did, but even Cas was acting like it didn’t matter that they’d let him sit in a cell for weeks.

Dean wished he could explain why it bothered him so much. Yes, he knew that Asmodeus was powerful, a master of trickery, that anyone could have been fooled. But still, _He_ should have known. _He_ should have been able to tell, to feel that something was off.

And the truth was, he had. He’d thought Asmodues’s calls had been too short, too methodical, too cold. But … he hadn’t wanted to push. His feelings about Cas were … getting complicated. Or maybe they always had been complicated and he’d just started to notice. Just started to admit it. And with Cas so recently back from death – he had been angry at Cas, stubbornly angry at him, right before he’d died. He was afraid that if he pried, if he accused Cas of anything, it would push them into an argument he didn’t want to have. Because what if he had been wrong, and nothing was off about the calls? What if he was just expecting Cas to care more than he actually did?

So, he hadn’t said anything, and by trying to respect Cas boundaries, he’d ended up leaving him locked up by the new king of Hell for weeks.

Maybe that was something Sam could brush off – maybe it was something Sam needed to brush off – but Dean couldn’t.


	7. Brought Back For A Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13x14
> 
> Castiel: I have to believe that I was brought back for a reason.
> 
> Dean: You were. Okay, Jack brought you back because we needed you back.
> 
> Castiel: Right. And how have I repaid him? … maybe I was brought back to help prepare.
> 
> Dean: Prepare for what?
> 
> Castiel: War.
> 
> …
> 
> Castiel (to Donatello): I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let you, or anyone hurt the people I love. Not again.
> 
> …
> 
> Castiel: Some people just can’t be saved.
> 
> DEAN: Yeah, but who gets to make that choice? You? What exactly gives you the right?
> 
> CASTIEL: Nothing. I took it. … This is the only way we win, and this is the only way we survive. It’s like you said, Dean. Whatever it takes.

Dean stared at Cas, feeling like he didn’t recognize him. Dean wasn’t unfamiliar with making the hard calls, he knew morals had to bend sometimes, some people had to be used, but this … turning Donatello into a vegetable? Sometimes he forgot how inhuman Cas could be. Of course, he wasn’t human. He may have had a taste of humanity when he lost his grace, but he was an angel, a celestial being trapped in an earthly vessel, whose true form and voice would blind and deafen a human.

Somehow, through the years, Dean had forgotten that.

But he remembered now. Ever since Cas had come back from death, he’d had a drive, a passion, that Dean hadn’t seen in him for a long time. He carried himself differently. He fought ferociously. And he wouldn’t let anyone get in his way … even Dean.

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know if he wanted to argue with … this. This version of Cas, whose blue eyes were steely, unwelcoming. Defiant.

Sam glanced between Dean and Cas, clearly noticing the tension. “Ok,” he said, “So … we know what we really need for the spell now,” he hesitated, nodding a little at Cas, “thanks,” he said uncertainly, “Uh – I’ll start hitting the books, see what the lore can tell us about them.”

He headed up to the library, eventually grabbing a seat as far away from the war room as possibly, leaving Dean and Cas standing by themselves.

“Dean, I know you … don’t approve of the methods I used but –”

“’Don’t approve?’” Dean retorted, “Cas, we’re supposed to be the good guys. We told Donatello he’d be ok, that he could go home after this!”

“Dean, he attacked you,” Cas said, anger filling his voice, “He was soulless, and had all the knowledge from the demon tablet in his head. Who knows what he was going to do next? I stopped him. I saved you. I got what we need to save Jack. I will not apologize.”

Dean was silent for a moment, replaying the day’s events in his mind. He thought of the concern he’d seen on Cas’s face after Donatello had tried to suffocate Dean. What would Dean have done, if the situation was reversed? If Donatello had put Cas’s life in danger …

“Alright,” he said begrudgingly after a moment, “fine. I won’t ask you to.”

Cas looked at him through narrowed eyes, but when it became clear that Dean wasn’t going to pick a fight he relaxed. “We need to be prepared,” he said, echoing what he had said earlier.

“We will be, Cas,” Dean assured him. “We will.”

There was more he wanted to say, but his steel walls of anger hadn’t completely fallen yet. He might understand Cas’s reasoning but that didn’t mean he could just forget it. That didn’t mean he could just be okay with what had happened today. But still … he wanted to tell Cas that preparing for war couldn’t be the only reason he’d been brought back. If he wanted to believe in some destiny crap that was on him. But Dean didn’t need there to be a higher purpose for his return. He didn’t need him to be a soldier.

He just needed him. He needed him safe. He needed him whole.


	8. Dean Has A Lot To Think About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: In this chapter, they discuss gender. I was trying to get an accurate picture of how these characters would react to non-cisnormative concepts of genders. I don't think any of them are transphobic, just uninformed, and I sincerely apologize if anything in this chapter is hurtful to anyone. <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13x18  
> DEAN: So, if it's gone, then that means that we can't open that door again. [yelling] If we can't open the door, then I should've never come back! [Dean throws his hand across the table, scattering things onto the floor.] Son of a bitch! Every time! [He puts his hands on his head and turns away from Sam and Castiel, who look on in shock.]
> 
> DEAN: Every time we get close, it always falls apart. Every freakin' time.
> 
> CASTIEL: Dean... we will find Gabriel. We will.
> 
> DEAN: We better.

“Hey, Dean, what do you want to watch tonight?” Sam asked, walking into the library where Dean sat at his computer.

“What?” Dean asked, pulling his attention away from the laptop screen, which was running an algorithm, searching for signs of archangel activity. There had still been no sign of Gabriel, which meant no way to get back to Mom and Jack.

“It’s Tuesday,” Sam responded, “movie night. What do you wanna watch?”

"Um,” Dean hadn’t thought about it. Normally he had a long list of movies he wanted to rewatch, movies he wanted to show Cas. But they had fallen out of the habit of movie nights recently, and he didn’t have any movies that came to mind, “I don’t know, you can pick tonight.”

“Nah, come on,” Sam said, “We could … watch one of those old westerns or something.”

“Come on, Sam, you hate those,” Dean said, turning in his chair to face his brother.

Sam laughed, “What? No, I don’t hate them. They’re great,” but it was very unconvincing, not to mention that Dean had over 30 years of memories telling him otherwise.

He stared at him hard for a second before saying, “You’re doing the thing again.”

Sam did his best puppy-eyed innocent look, “What thing?”

“The thing,” Dean repeated, standing up, “where you’re worried about me, so you try to be extra nice to me. Stop it, I hate it.”

Sam sighed, dropping his shoulders and his fake-happy attitude, “Dean, come on –”

“No, I’m serious Sam, I’m fine.”

Sam looked at him levelly, “Yesterday, you basically flipped this table,” he said, “you weren’t exactly _fine._ ” Dean met his gaze; sure, maybe he had been frustrated yesterday (with plenty of reason) but that didn’t mean Sam had to walk on eggshells around him and try to make him feel “better.” After a moment Sam sighed and shook his head, letting Dean win the staring contest. “It’s not just for you,” he said, “we’re _all_ tense. I think we could all use a little time to unwind, have fun. We haven’t had a movie night in a while.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but he had a feeling Sam was right. There wasn’t much they could do at the moment, and it wouldn’t hurt to laugh a little. “Alright, fine, but why have me pick the movie?”

Sam chuckled, “because, you hate it when I pick, and we both know that if Cas picks, we’re gonna end up watching a three-hour Netflix documentary on bees.” Dean laughed; it was true, they’d learned their lesson after a couple of failed attempts.

“Besides,” Sam continued, “Cas loves it when you pick.”

Dean did a double take, “He does?”

Sam smiled at him, a little bemused, “yeah, he does,” he said, like it should have been obvious.

…

The credits rolled across the screen, unevenly illuminating the “Dean Cave” where they all sat. Dean had ended up buying a new, not-cursed, TV, which was much less exciting but also much less murder-y. Sam was sitting in the armchair, scribbling in a journal, which Dean had felt defeated the whole purpose of having a movie night, but Sam said that it counted that he was in the same room as them, and besides, he’d seen this movie a hundred times with Dean and he didn’t need to pay attention to know what was going on. It seemed he was done with his “overly nice” routine.

Dean sat on one end of the sofa; feet propped up on the coffee table in front of him, carefully not spilling the beer that was set there as well. Cas was sitting at the other end, eyes still glued to the screen. He was probably actually reading the credits, he did that sometimes. He said that so many humans had put time and effort into making these things, they deserved at least a few minutes to have their names read.

Dean had picked a double feature for them all to watch, but instead of reaching for the remote to select the next movie, he let the credits roll. There was a question that had been bouncing around in his head for … a while. He wasn’t entirely sure where it had come from, but he’d probably been thinking about it for at least a year. Given the … way he’d been feeling recently it had been pestering him more, “Hey, Cas, y’know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something”

“What is it, Dean?” Cas asked, looking toward him with a small smile.

"Well, I’ve been thinking,” Dean said, “Your buddy Benjamin, his vessel was a woman, but he was a guy, right? I mean, _Benjamin_ , we say “he” when we’re talking about him and everything,” Cas’s posture, which before had been as proper as possible when seated on a sofa, deflated a little as Dean continued “…. And same with Raphael I mean, we saw him in a couple different vessels but no matter what he looked like, he was still a dude.”

“Neither Raphael nor Benjamin were ‘dudes’ Dean,” Cas said, sounding tired, but a little amused.

“What? No, I mean like …” Dean didn’t understand Cas’s objection, and searched for another example of what he was trying to say, “Like, Crowley, he was … a guy. Sure, he could possess a woman if he wanted to, but that’s just kinda like … if he put on a dress or something. Like, Crowley’s still a man no matter what he’s wearing, right?”

“You’re right about Crowley,” Cas answered after a sigh, “when he was human, he was a man, both physically and metaphysically, so when his soul became a demon, he retained that gender. No matter what body a soul possesses, the gender stays the same. However, angels were never human. These forms –“ He looked down at himself, still in his white shirt and slacks, “they’re completely unfamiliar to us. We don’t have the same binary idea of gender as most humans.”

“Wait … what?” Dean said, a little taken aback, “What do you mean?”

“I mean …” Cas heaved a tired sigh, “In Enochian, we have 8 different types of gendered pronouns, and even those don’t always fit all of us.” Sam set aside his journal, leaning forward intently as he listened. “When we speak English,” Cas continued, “we try to pick one of the two genders available that best fits, but it’s not entirely accurate. Some angels will have a preference, choosing mostly male vessels, or mostly female vessels, but at the end of the day, we are neither men nor women. We are angels.”

Eight genders? This was starting to hurt Dean’s head. He hadn’t expected the answer to his question to be so … outside the way he thought of the world, “Wait so … Jo … uh, Anael, she’s not … a _she?”_

“Not in the way you would conceptualize it, no,” Cas answered simply.

“Huh … interesting…” that gave Dean a lot to think about. Because … Anael was hot. Or, her vessel was hot. Not that he would ever do anything about that, he wasn’t crazy, but it was the truth. But technically she wasn’t a woman … so was finding her attractive the same as being attracted to someone who was … not a woman? Because if Anael wasn’t really a woman, that meant Anna hadn’t been either. Although her vessel certainly had been. Did that even matter, separating the angel from the vessel? And if all angels were neither men nor women, what was the difference between him kissing one like Anna versus, for instance – “So,” he said, trying to keep a rein on his train of thought, "what about you? What … are you?”

“Dean,” Sam said, like he was worried he would offend Cas.

“What? I’m just wondering,” Dean said, taking a sip of his beer. He was, just wondering. It wasn’t like it mattered. It wasn’t.

Cas closed his eyes, this topic seemed to have suddenly exhausted him, “I don’t know Dean, like I said, you don’t really have the language to express it. Calling me a man might be a bit more accurate than calling me a woman, but I’ve had female vessels before.”

Dean spit out his beer in surprise, “You what?”

“Yes, Dean. I’ve existed since the dawn of time; I’ve had many vessels. Not all of them were men,” Cas said, like he was explaining to a child that 2+2=4. But the thought had legitimately never crossed Dean’s mind. He’d always seen Cas as … well, a man.

“Huh” Dean said, setting down his drink. He definitely had a lot to think about. Maybe too much to think about. What if he had met Cas as a woman? What would he have thought about him? or … her? Or would Cas still want to be called “him” even in a female vessel? He looked at Cas, and tried to imagine him as a girl, but he couldn’t. This face, the blue eyes, the shape of his jaw, the stubble that ran along it, the little bit of collar bone that could be seen where his shirt had been unbottened … it was all just … _Cas_. This was how he knew him. This _was_ his face, his body. Whatever vessels Cas had had before, this was the one Dean knew, and it was this version of Cas that he –

“Do you guys want popcorn?” he asked suddenly, standing up, “I’m gonna go make some popcorn!”

“Uh – I’m good Dean,” Sam called after him as he quickly left the room.

…

Sam shifted in the armchair, he had something on his mind that he had never been planning on voicing aloud, but after the conversation they’d just had … “Actually, Cas, can I talk to you about … all that?” he said, as soon as Dean was out of earshot.

“Sam, I really don’t know how to explain it in English,” Cas said, looking tired.

“No, I mean …” Sam glanced around, making extra sure Dean was out of the room before moving quickly over to the couch to sit by Cas, “do you think, maybe, humans could be like that too? I mean … like, 8 different genders or something.”

Cas looked contemplative, “I’ve never made a study of it, but I know that countless cultures have included people who don’t identify within the binary of man or woman. It would make sense to me.”

“Right, yeah,” Sam said, still whispering.

“Why do you ask?” Cas said, his eyes narrowing.

“It’s just … Well, you know I’ve been doing … research, trying to find ways to help Dean. These websites and videos and stuff that Charlie got me into,” he’d started out trying to help Dean, to understand more about internalized homophobia and unlearn all the harmful things they’d been told growing up. But eventually he’d started looking at things that had nothing to do with Dean, “I don’t know, I’ve been watching some of them, people who don’t identify as male or female, like genderqueer, genderfluid, nonbinary, and … I don’t know, it got me thinking…” he trailed off.

“Sam,” Cas said, “what are you trying to tell me?”

Sam swallowed, “Gender has always been … weird for me,” he admitted, “I mean, I’m definitely not a woman, I know that,” he said with a breathy laugh, “but at the same time … I don’t know, I play the role of ‘man’ because its what people expect from me, but … I don’t know if it’s really _who I am_.” He paused for a moment, looking for Cas’s reaction but he didn’t really seem to have one, he was just looking at Sam pensively. Suddenly, Sam felt like he shouldn’t have said anything, “I’m not saying I wanna wear skirts and makeup like some of the – nonbinary people I see online but … I don’t know. Nevermind, it doesn’t matter,” he shook his head, moving back to his armchair.

“Sam –” Cas started to say.

But Dean re-entered the room at that moment, balancing three large bowls of popcorn in his arms.

“Dean,” Sam said, trying to hide behind his exasperation, “why’d you – I told you not to make any for me.”

“What are you talking about Sammy? Two of these are for me,” Dean said with a laugh, handing one to Cas, who was even less likely to eat it than Sam was, and settling down on the couch next to him. “Now, you ready for this one?” he laughed, “ah, you’re gonna love it.” He reached for the remote, then paused, looking between Sam and Cas, “I miss something?” he asked.

Cas glanced at Sam, then turned to Dean, “No, we were just discussing the deeper themes about humanities’ struggles explored in this last movie. I’m excited to see what we can learn from the next one.” Cas looked back at Sam, who nodded in appreciation. He understood that Cas wanted to finish that conversation, but he was glad that Cas understood that he wasn’t ready for Dean to know. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Dean chuckled, looking confused but pleased, “Alright then, lets get it started,” he said, and pressed play. Sam fought to hide a grin as he noticed Dean stretch his arms, and slowly lower them so that one rested on the back of the couch, directly behind Cas’s shoulders.


	9. No Cas, it's not fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13x19
> 
> Dean: Cas, you wanna try this angel thing, then go for it. Just don’t get dead again.
> 
> …
> 
> Cas: You know, I have to admit I was... I was relieved to hear you were dead.
> 
> Naomi: We never did see eye to eye.
> 
> Cas: No, no we didn’t, because you stole my memories, and you threatened to "tear me apart," and you made me repeatedly act out Dean Winchester’s murder, and you killed many, many people.
> 
> Naomi: Those were simpler times.
> 
> Cas: "I’m sorry" goes a long way.
> 
> Naomi: Mm-hmm

Dean was sitting in Rowena’s hotel room, trying to not fall asleep while Sam and Rowena chatted about spells and herbs on the other side of the room, when his phone rang.

“Cas,” he said, answering it, “I was just about to call you.” He had actually just decided to not call Cas, not until Rowena finished her spell. He’d wanted to, but he hadn’t wanted to seem … clingy?

“Hello Dean,” Cas responded, “were you able to find Rowena?”

“Yeah, actually,” Dean sad, “She uh … she’s about to do a tracking spell to help us find Gabriel, hopefully.”

“Oh,” Cas said, “well, that’s good.”

“Yeah … What about you, any luck with the angels?”

Cas heaved a heavy sigh, “Well, I spoke with … Naomi.”

Dean’s heart stopped for a moment, “Naomi?” He asked, incredulous, “as in, the Naomi who tortured you and tried to make you kill me? That Naomi?”

“Yes.”

“What the hell? I thought she was dead!”

“So did I,” Cas said, sounding incredibly tired, “But I guess we were … misled. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, the angels can’t help us.”

“Well, good,” Dean said, feeling his anger start to rise, “Cause if Naomi is in heaven, I don’t think I want their help.”

“Dean,” Cas protested.

“No, I’m sorry,” Dean continued, “You should never have to look at that bitch again, let alone talk to her … try to work with her. After what she did to you –”

“Dean, it’s fine.”

“No Cas, it’s not,” Dean said forcefully. Because it wasn’t fine. Dean knew that Cas had been through a lot, but what Naomi had done to him … messed around in his head, tried to make him into her little puppet. Tried to take away his agency. That wasn’t something Dean could just put in the past. He knew they worked with a lot of sketchy people for the greater good – hell, he was sitting in the living room of a witch who had just kill five people – but this wasn’t the kind of thing you just moved past.

“You’re right, Dean,” Cas said after a moment, “it’s not.”

Dean listened to Cas breathe for a minute, it sounded even, relaxed, and yet … “Cas, _are_ you ok?” he asked softly, a drastic change in tone from a moment earlier.

Silence. And then, “I don’t know, Dean,” Cas said, “I’m … I’m trying to stay focused. We need to find Jack. That’s what matters. That’s all that matters.”

But Dean could hear in his voice that Cas was more shaken by this encounter than he wanted to admit. He was scared. Vulnerable. In that moment Dean wanted, more than anything, to be by his side. To hold him, to protect him. To fight everyone and everything that had ever hurt him.

“Yeah, we’ll find him,” Dean found himself saying, “we will.” He wanted to say more. He wanted to tell Cas that he would never let anyone hurt him again. A part of him said that that was ridiculous – Cas was an angel, even when he was weak, he was stronger and more powerful than Dean – but that didn’t seem to matter. Sure, he was an angel, but he was _Dean’s_ angel. And Dean protected the people he loved.


	10. I wasn't going to let you die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13x21
> 
> Cas: He’s gone.
> 
> Dean: No!
> 
> Cas: We don’t have time! We can’t save him.

Dean was silent as they made their way through the forest, away from the den of vampires. Gabriel and the girl they had picked up along the way trailed behind him … the girl had seemed wary of Dean after she tried to apologize to him. She wouldn’t walk anywhere close.

Castiel began to walk in time with Dean, he opened his mouth to speak but Dean picked up his pace, shouldering past him. “Don’t talk to me,” he grunted. Not right now.

After a moment Cas was back at his side, “Dean,” he said, “are you _angry_ with me?” He sounded incredulous; hurt.

“I said, don’t talk to me,” Dean reiterated. He knew that, in his current mood, he was likely to say things he would regret later. He also knew that if he started talking, he’d probably start crying, and Cas had been right about one thing. They didn’t have time.

“Dean,” Castiel was exasperated, “I wish …” he started, but seemed to think better of it. They trudged on for a few more moments, the crunch of dead leaves filling the air.

“Y’know,” Dean said eventually, “Sam was … being in this place, it gave him _hope_ ,” he gestured to the desolate forest around them. Everything looked dead or dying. Not in the ordinary, changing-of-the-seasons way, but as if something had sucked the life out of the air around them. “Hope,” he shook his head, “he was so certain we would see Mom and Jack again and …” he trailed off, then shot a glance at Cas, “well, we saw how that turned out for him.”

“Dean, there was nothing we could do,” Castiel said and Dean refused to look at him, “There were too many of them, and they’d already hurt him too badly. Maybe, if Gabriel was at full power but …” he stopped in his tracks, grabbing Dean’s arm and forcing him to face him. “I wasn’t going to let you die.”

Dean met Cas’s eyes with a glare, refusing to be the first to look away. A part of him knew that Cas was right. It wouldn’t help anyone if they had all gotten slaughtered in that den of vampires. But it had felt like giving up. Like letting Sam die when there was still a chance to save him – no matter how small of a chance it had been. Cas had held him back and made him watch his little brother be dragged away by monsters.

Eventually Cas broke the stare-down, shaking his head tiredly. “I know you think it’s your job to protect everyone,” he said, “but some of us – some of us want to protect you too,” his frustration was evident in his entire being, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to speak. He just looked back at the girl they had saved. Maggie … that was her name, right? Sam would argue that it had mattered. They had saved someone.

And he still had a job to do. He would save his mom and Jack from this Hell of a world, even if he had to do it without his brother.


	11. Maybe he could actually be happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre13x23 
> 
> Dean: Hey, you remember...remember when you asked if we could stop it? All the evil in the world?
> 
> SAM: Yeah.
> 
> DEAN: If we could...really change things? Well, maybe with Jack, we can.
> 
> SAM: Maybe you're right. But then what will we do?
> 
> DEAN: Mm. Yeah. This.(Beer) A whole lot of this. But on a beach somewhere, you know? Can you imagine? You, me, Cass, toes in the sand, couple of them little umbrella drinks. Matching Hawaiian shirts, obviously. Some hula girls.
> 
> SAM: You talking about retiring? You?
> 
> DEAN: If I knew the world was safe? Hell, yeah. And you know why? 'Cause we freaking earned it, man.
> 
> SAM: I'll drink to that.
> 
> DEAN: Yeah. Hell, yeah.

Dean couldn’t believe it. They had done it. They had actually done it. They got mom back, they got Jack back, Lucifer was gone, they didn’t have to worry about evil alternate Michael anymore … it had been a long time since they’d won like this without causing their next big problem in the process.

He felt … light. In a way he hadn’t in a long time. Like maybe he could actually be … happy.

He walked through the bunker. Sam was busy trying to catch all the new people up on how things worked in their world, and Jack was getting some much-needed sleep. Dean poked his head into a few rooms, looking for Cas. Now that the world wasn’t ending, for once, he … felt like there was something he needed to do. Something he needed to say.

He finally found Cas next to the telescope at the back of the library. “Hey, Cas,” Dean said, approaching, “you uh … know that thing doesn’t work, right?”

“Yes, I know,” Cas said, looking over at Dean, “I was just … contemplating the value of something that fails to perform it’s intended task. What function does this telescope serve, if we can’t see the stars through it?”

Dean felt like there was some other layer to what Cas was saying, but he couldn’t make himself figure out what it was. His stomach had suddenly started turning; now that he was standing face to face with Cas, actually having the conversation he had been planning seemed unthinkable. “I don’t … I really don’t know Cas,” he said with a small laugh, scratching the back of his head.

Cas turned to stare at the telescope again, and Dean struggled to find something to say. He glanced around them, at the various people perusing the library, then cleared his throat. “Hey, Cas, you – uh, you wanna go for a drive?”

Cas looked at him curiously, then nodded, “Of course, Dean.”

…

Dean drove the Impala down an empty stretch of road for a few minutes, blasting a Zeppelin song as they went. He knew that Cas knew something was up, and he was beating himself up inside for feeling so … weird and stressed about it. It wasn’t like he’d never told someone he liked them. Why couldn’t he just – act? Like he normally did?

Because … well, because this was Cas. This was different. This wasn’t some random girl at a bar. This was … his best friend. And it was scary and new and surprising – even though he realized now these feelings weren’t really new at all.

Eventually the song came to an end and Dean pulled the Impala over to the side of the road. Cas was looking at him expectantly, patiently, and it made Dean want to scream.

He took a deep breath, “So, Cas …” he said, “I’ve been thinking … a lot. About, y’know, my life … who I am … what I – what I want.” Oh God, this sounded so stupid. But he needed to say it. “You know, we got … we got our family back and it seems like things might finally be more … settled and …” where was he going with this? What was he trying to say? Well, he knew what he was trying to say but … not how to get there.

Well, he might as well spit it out. “You know … for a lot of my life I thought people were either gay or straight. Two options. One or the other. And since I liked girls and I knew I liked girls I figured I must be straight and that’s it,” Cas looked a little alarmed at the sudden change in topic, but … not as alarmed as Dean might have expected, “but, turns out, maybe that’s not as true as I thought it was. Or … not true at all.”

Cas opened his mouth to react, but Dean just kept going, “and the truth is, my whole life makes so much more sense when I think about it this way. Like, guys are hot, girls are hot, everybody is really effing hot. Like …” he really didn’t know how to articulate what he was feeling, but he knew it was true. He’d been in denial for a long time, but his whole life he’d been attracted to people of multiple genders. It wasn’t just Cas that confused him – although his feelings about Cas ran far deeper than any passing attraction he had had. “So … I guess I’m … bi?” he said, and it felt … oddly anticlimactic. He had expected saying it out loud to feel different, but it just felt … normal.

Cas was smiling. It was a small smile, that tugged at his lips in this stupid cute way and Dean hated it. And he loved it.

“I’m proud of you, Dean,” Cas said, which felt like the right thing for him to say, but also a weird thing to hear, but Dean took it anyway, “I hope this is the first step in you becoming more of your true self.”

Dean breathed out. First step over. Time for the next one.

He met Castiel’s piercing blue eyes and tried to think of the right thing to say. He wanted to try and be smooth and romantic, but who was he kidding? He had never been any good at romance. It wasn’t in his bones. “So … with that being said,” he began, “I … I’ve realized that –” How did he say this and still sound sincere without sounding cheesy? Cas was just sitting there, waiting for him to finish this stupid sentence and …

And the next thing Dean knew, Cas was leaning toward him, closing the space between their faces. His hands cupped his face, their lips locked and ---

Dean suddenly found it very hard to breathe. To think. To exist as anything other than this – a man kissing an angel – his angel.

Cas pulled away and Dean blinked in surprise. “How – wha?”

“I heard your prayer,” Cas answered simply, and Dean remembered, years ago, when Cas had told him that a prayer didn’t have to be formally spoken; that angels could pick up on longing, even if the person wasn’t aware of it in themselves.

It took him a second to process, but after a moment he looked at Cas, a little accusatory, “Wait so are you saying … you knew? For how long?”

Cas smiled a little sheepishly, “a while,” he said evasively.

“And you didn’t … say anything? Do anything?” Dean exclaimed, “how many years …?” Some part of him hated the idea that Cas had understood this far sooner than Dean had himself, but the rest of him just couldn’t believe that Cas had just … waited! Instead of opening his goddamn mouth!

Cas seemed amused by Dean’s incredulousness, “I didn’t want to bring it up until you were… ready,” he said, “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Well, I’m ready now,” he said, “and you, sir, have a lot of missed time to make up for.”

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: So, after further reflection I've decided that the purpose of these overviews is really to focus on Dean and his relationship to Cas. I still love the idea of enby Sam, so Sam and their adventures with gender will probably continue, but in a separate fic, so keep an eye out for that if it's something that interests you.  
> Also, I'm sorry it's taking me so freaking long to update this, I already have a lot of Season 14 and 15 chapters written. I just have to fill in some blanks. There will be new chapters soon.


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